


A week is enough time (to miss you)

by Khalehla



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, PWP, Slow Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: Teyla begins to think that maybe a week is enough time to miss someone.





	A week is enough time (to miss you)

**Author's Note:**

> I’m watching the entire Stargate Atlantis series, and boy do these two make a beautiful couple.

Teyla has just turned out the lights and is ready to settle down when she gets the notification that someone is at her door. At this late in the night, there can only be one person who would be seeking her out, but it’s still a pleasant surprise when she sees him standing there as soon as the door slides open.

“I did not realise you were back so soon.”

“It has been nearly a week,” Ronon says softly, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“And yet the research expedition was scheduled for nearly two,” she reminds him.

Ronon smiles. “Let’s just say that if we had stayed the allotted ten days, there may have been casualties, and not because we were susceptible to a visit from the wraith.”

Teyla sits up in concern; this should not have happened, the planet that Dr. McKay’s team had visited were frequent trading partners of her people, and had been open to negotiations. “You encountered local trouble?”

Ronon shrugs, looking amused. “For all his technical genius, diplomacy is not one of McKay’s strengths. I didn’t think it was possible to commit as many social faux pas as he did in the last few days, and yet he has somehow managed to do so.”

Teyla laughs lightly, very much aware that Dr. McKay frequently suffered from what John has referred to as ‘foot-in-mouth-disease’. She waves his hand at Ronon, inviting him to step into her room. “Oh no, what did he do?”

“You mean, what did he _not_ do?” he asks, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. “First he described the ceremonial garb of the priestess eye-catching, and not in a good way. Then tried to somehow make it better by comparing the guards armour to a Picasso.”

“What is a Picasso?” Teyla asks, intrigued. She scoots up further to the top of her bed and brings her knees up so she can rest her chin on them; she has a feeling she is going to enjoy this story and wants to be comfortable in the retelling.

“I am not sure; McKay had difficulty explaining why this was not an insult at the time. But from the expression on Major Lorne’s face, it was not exactly complimentary.”

“Oh dear.”

“Indeed.”

“And that was the first day?”

“That was the first meeting,” Ronon corrects. “During the evening meal, he managed to mistake the chief’s granddaughter as a boy, remarking on her, erm, stout constitution and large hands that, and I quote, at least boded well for a strong strapping son.”

Teyla can’t help it, she throws her head back and laughs. She had seen the chief’s newest grandchild a few weeks ago when she and John had first visited, and she could admit that the child was not exactly handsome. However, trust Rodney to somehow commit the ultimate social blunder of insulting a _baby_.

“At this point I was pretty sure Dr. Beckett was going to sedate him in order to shut him up. Or perhaps ask Lorne to stun him.” Ronon takes her hand. “You should have been there to save us from him; your diplomatic sensibilities would have come in very handy.”

“I will sure to volunteer the next Elizabeth makes the mistake of allowing McKay to lead a diplomatic mission,” Teyla smiles, “if only so I can watch him in action. Fortunately there is no way he could have done anything else to make the situation worse from there; I take it the rest of the mission went smoothly?”

“Teyla, you underestimate McKay’s ability to make things worse.”

“Surely not! What else did he do?”

“You remember it is about a moon away from the fertility harvest?” Teyla nods; her people were busy preparing as well, and she was looking forward to being with them for the festival. “Well, in the spirit of trade and, what did Sheppard call it? Ah yes, cultural exchange. McKay, knowing nothing of the traditions of the village, kindly offered Lorne’s expertise to teach the young people hand to hand combat as we were going to be there for a while.”

Teyla’s eyes widen. “Oh no,” she says again.

Ronon grins at her. “Oh yes. And poor Lorne, trying so hard to make up for the disastrous first day, agrees.”

“Oh _no_. And how many of the villagers agreed to the, eh, cultural exchange?”

“Quite a number of unmarried ladies and men, actually,” Ronon grins.

“Ronon, why did you not stop this?” Teyla laughs. Goodness, what a disaster.

“I was touring the village with one of the chieftain’s main security, I only found out about it when I returned and Lorne had started the sparring. By then the major had attracted a large crowd and about half the village matrons. It was all I could do to stop what was happening without being attacked for interrupting a mating ritual. Or rather, mating rituals. _Many_ rituals. It was not easy, Teyla.”

“I can imagine,” she agrees, shaking her head. “So how did Major Lorne react when you told him that he was now betrothed several times over?”

“Never have I seen him look so fearful. Fortunately McKay’s blunders on the first day were evidence of these Lantean’s ignorance, and we managed to clear things up without any bloodshed. I have faced hundreds of wraith in my lifetime, yet none of them strike fear in me as much as facing half a village of unhappy parents looking for a mate for their child.”

“Is that why you returned so quickly? To escape the wrath of those unhappy parents?”

Ronon laughs lightly. “No, in fact Dr. Beckett had to return and request one of the botanists to accompany us back; apparently there is a herb with unique medicinal properties that he would like to study.”

“I’m sure Major Lorne would have been happy at the momentary reprieve.”

“I am quite sure he is going to beg Sheppard to reassign him to another mission.”

“And you?” Teyla asks, tugging lightly at the hand still holding hers. She shifts until she is lying on her back, wrapping her arms around his neck when Ronon slowly slides down to loom over her. “Will you be returning with Dr. Beckett or will you also be requesting to be reassigned?”

Ronon hums, presses his lips lightly against the juncture of her neck and shoulders, drawing a sigh from her. “I may have to return if only to ensure that McKay doesn’t accidentally pledge his first unborn child as payment during trade or something equally stupid.” He runs his nose up against her cheek until his mouth is just a breath hovering over her lips. “Perhaps you should come with us.”

“I have our own fertility harvest I must prepare for, you know this,” she reminds him. “Unfortunately, I will have to just enjoy your retelling of McKay’s social awkwardness when you return.”

“Not even for a couple of days?”

“Needs, must. How long until you will go back?”

“Possibly tomorrow morning; I don’t foresee Dr. Weir objecting to Dr. Beckett’s request.”

Teyla hums. “Shall you stay the night, then?”

“If you will have me.”

She doesn’t respond with words, just pulls him down until their mouths are happily engaged in slowly kissing the breath out of each other.

A week is a long time, Teyla thinks dazedly a time later, when they are unclothed and she is writhing beneath him as feather kisses are pressed into her neck and across her clavicle. For all his enormous strength and hands roughened in war, Ronon’s touches are reverent caresses across her skin. He is taking his time with her, alternating between nipping and lathing with his tongue, overheating her already vibrating skin. A week can be a long time when you’ve gotten used to pleasure on an almost nightly basis, and never a passive lover, Teyla makes her impatience known when he spends a little too much time at the top of her breast. Raking one hand up his back she clenches her fingers into his hair and tugs, forcing him to look up at her. His eyes are hooded and he says nothing as she directs his mouth towards her nipple, dutifully taking it between his lips and sucking not so gently.

Teyla throws her head back and moans at the pleasure-pain, digging into his back with her nails, urging him on to the other breast. He is an attentive lover, and gives her what she wants, spending long minutes on each one until she is panting wordlessly. He continues the assault on her skin with his mouth, kissing as much of her body on his way south, nudging at her thighs to make room for himself. Teyla clenches both fists in his hair as he licks into her, her moans filling the room. Soon enough she can feel the tension in her body that signifies she is close to orgasm, and she pulls him away from her.

Ronon licks his lips, visibly savouring her taste on his tongue, smiling as she tugs him around until he is on his back and she is poised over him. They share a heated kiss while she takes his gorgeous length into her hand, then slowly sinks down onto him. They both moan loudly, taking a minute to enjoy the heat and pleasure. Like all of him, he is big, and Teyla luxuriates in how well he fills her up, clenching onto him and making him moan yet again.

She rides him slowly first, his hands steady and gentle but firm on her waist, his eyes blown yet fixed on her face. She arches her back in order to bring him even deeper into her, head thrown back as she quickens the pace, digging her fingers into his muscled chest in order to steady herself. When she quickens, her orgasm drawing nearer and nearer, he plants his feet and cants his hips to meet her thrusts, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing loudly in her room. When she is moments away from her release, she drops her head and opens her eyes, almost whimpering at the fierce expression on his face, the one she knows he is holding himself back as he waits for her to take her pleasure first. It’s this that finally tips her over, and she comes with a loud exhale, her body stiffening almost painfully. He keeps thrusting as she rides the waves of her orgasm until he too stiffens and she feels him release inside her.

After a few more seconds she slumps down onto his chest, pressing her ear against the still-rapidly beating heartbeat, catching her own breath. Soon enough he begins to withdraw, gently rearranging them so that they can somehow fit onto her bed that can barely fit his giant body, let alone both of them. A week is a long time, she thinks just as sleep is about to claim her, maybe taking a couple of days to go on mission wouldn’t be too bad, after all.

 


End file.
